


Scared of the Outcome (Of What I Could Become)

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: Character Revival, Gen, Paranatural Entities, Rating May Change, Younger Version of Character(s), characters and ships may be added, this makes no sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: He was supposed to be dead, so why was he here?
Relationships: Jesse Faden & Emily Pope, Simon Arish & Jesse Faden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Scared of the Outcome (Of What I Could Become)

**Author's Note:**

> This is extremely random and out of nowhere, I just word vomited on a page... no idea if this will be a multichapter/multipiece fic or what. I can't promise more, but there's a possibility, ya know? I might add to this if I figure out stuff. I just felt the urge to write this real quick.  
> Either way, this isn't super good, but maybe somebody will enjoy it.

Polaris echoed around Jesse, urging her to move further into the hiss infected building. Some time has passed, but it was still difficult to get rid of all the semblance of the remaining hiss. It was becoming only more and more unclear when, if at all, they could go out of the Oldest House. Eventually, Polaris grew oddly quiet, as they ventured through the building, making Jesse become more nervous. It wasn’t a good sign when her own guiding star decided to stay quiet. 

Eventually, the current Director looked around the room she was in. It was close to the sentient furnace, which was an odd place to come back to, yet there seemed no Hiss infected rangers or anything was appearing. Instead, she concentrated on a far off sound she could barely hear, Polaris pointing it out. It sounded much like… somebody walking. She kept absolutely still as the incoming footsteps grew louder and readied her gun for good measure. However, no amount of preparation would have made her not react to this.

A man, a dead man, in fact. Zachariah Trench, but younger—like in the photos that were on his desk, the ones where he held a newborn or was awarded a medal, not like she remembers him from her childhood—this made no sense. Was the Hiss messing with her? Did something happen? Even by her standards, this was, well, weird.

She aimed her gun, once the other saw her.

“Who are you?” She asks, loudly, not ready to put up with whatever deceit might come from this. The man raised his hands, in the universal sign of surrender and grimaced.

“I’m Zachariah Trench, an agent.” He explains. She raises a brow at this, but there’s a good distance between them so she could still shoot him if she felt it was needed.

“Zachariah Trench is dead.” She retorts, some anger in her voice.

“I assume so is Northmoor, since you’re holding the service weapon.” He states, confusing Jesse slightly. She hated that she knew exactly where Northmoor was, but this was no time for that. “Am I really dead if I’m standing right here? Must have been an incorrect report. I don’t know what happened, but if you let me talk to some of the other agents, they would surely recognize me, Director.” His voice rings with some level of respect, but it is as if it’s straining against his voice, struggling to not come back as a bite.

Jesse doesn’t buy it, can’t let herself be stupid enough to believe this. Whatever it is, a dead man can’t come back. Even with the entities at play, Trench is dead. She made sure of that. The dead don’t come back…

Trench, or well, suppose the Trench look alike whatever it was, shifts, still holding his hands up. 

“I just want to go home to Kate and Susanne, please.” The dead one adds.

Jesse sighs, not letting the gun down.

“I’ll bring you back to Central Executive but only if you promise me you won’t try anything, otherwise I’ll shoot you on spot.” She mutters, reluctantly slightly lowering the service weapon.

“Understood, Director.” He says, nodding and dropping his arms.

* * *

Once they exited the elevator and walked towards the meeting room, every agent stopped in their tracks, noting the very familiar face that was not supposed to be among them. Inside the meeting room, not much of a different reaction: Emily seemed perplexed, yet curious. 

“Director Trench?” She began, flabbergast how else to contain herself from jumping up from her chair and investigating the man in any way she could.

“Director?” Zachariah seemed very confused like it was obvious as to why.

“He doesn’t remember that part.” Jesse says to her Head of Research, then motioning for the questionably here man to sit down in the chair in front of her. He hesitates but ultimately ends up obeying.

“Who are you?” Maybe-Trench asks Emily, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“I’m the current head of research.” The blonde explains, smirking.

“I always thought Darling would take over after Ash. I’ve never even seen you around.” He leans slightly, or well, begins to (probably to take a closer look at her to see if he really didn’t know her) but Jesse forcefully pulls on the collar of his white button-up, forcing him back to rest against the chair.

“Dr. Darling has been missing for a while now.” Emily counters, slightly offended in her tone.

“What?” Perhaps-Trench spits out without thinking, seemingly shocked at this statement. “How?” He continues, worries seeping through him. If this was really the real Trench, just somehow younger and less jaded, then the man wore his heart on his sleeve. It was almost endearing but there were other things to consider now. Like figuring out who he really was.

Jesse was about to suggest Emily would run some test on him, to see if he was Hiss infected or anything else that could possibly give answers as to who this was, when Arish entered the room, already seemingly determined to interject into this.

“I heard we have a bit of a situation on our hands, something about Trench being back?” Arish announces more than asks, closing in on the group. The possibly-Trench, looks up from his spot at the other, eyeing him carefully. “Oh…” Simon then blurts out, taking in the sight of the look-alike (maybe).

“And I also have no clue who you are.” Trench’s confusion spikes up. “I really have no idea who any of you are, and how you—“ he motions at Jesse. “—became Director. No offense.”

“None taken.” The redhead’s voice is full of sarcasm, clearly annoyed. “That’s Arish, he’s head of security and the new rangers now.”

“Wait—“ He trails off. “New rangers? Is Helen Marshall amongst them, or is she missing, too?”

All three of the new management team exchange looks, Jesse then sighing.

“Listen, all your friends are now currently either dead or missing, sorry to tell you that.”

The might-be-Trench blinks. Jesse eyes him, weighing if she should inform him of his daughter. Eventually decides.

“I have more news for you, but I think it’d be better off if we just wait around to see who you are first.” She begins, averting her gaze to Emily. “Figure out if he’s some Hiss trick, or something, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Emily.” Jesse then looks over to Arish. “Keep an eye on them; I’ll go check on Dylan.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The new Director rolls her eyes but still leaves them, with some hesitance.

* * *

Inside Dylan’s room, she sits on one of the chairs there, eyeing his unconscious body. She’s so far gone in her thoughts, worrying about Dylan and this new development that she loses track of time. It could be minutes, it could be hours, but she sits and stares.

There’s so much going on, suddenly. Yet, Dylan stays unconscious? That was just…unfair. She wanted her baby brother back, she wanted to make amends, beg for forgiveness for leaving him behind if she has to. However, of course, from all the bastards to come back – it was Trench. It was Trench ho returned with no sin attached to him, yet. A confused mess, at best. She hated him…

“I’m sorry.” Comes a voice, not currently brought down by many packets of cigarettes.

“What do you want?” Jesse’s inquiry is harsh, coming with rage built up over years at the man. She should ask why he’s alone here. Why he’s bothering her.

“They told me what I did to your brother. I’m…sorry.” He mutters, once again straining his voice to sound docile.

“You can’t undo past mistakes and actions speak louder than words, anyway.” She stands from her chair and turns to face the other. He merely nods. A long silence takes place in the room, only interrupted by Dylan’s life support.

She wanted to beat the shit out of the other, claw his life out of him. But Jesse just stood and stared him down, as he avoided her intense gaze.

“Whatever is the Hiss, they told me I have no trace of it…” He finally says, looking back up at her.

Jesse nods.

“In that case, welcome to the team. We’re tremendously understaffed; you’re welcome to join us. But know this— if you even think of fucking us over, you’re dead.”


End file.
